I've been burned too many times
I made mistakes but God knows I've tried
Now I think I've got it right with you
I can't say that I'm not scared
I'm terrified of how much I care
But I don't want to be anywhere but here with you
~All I Know, Beth Crowley
Bathing together had evolved into a cherished routine for Astarion and Ruby ever since that fateful day by the secluded pond. Despite the intimacy of sharing such moments, their connection transcended any hint of sexuality, steeped instead in a comforting companionship that they both found solace in.
Their bathing sessions were marked by playful antics, as they indulged in harmless splashing and lighthearted banter. However, there were also moments of quietude, where they simply reveled in each other's company, finding comfort in the serene atmosphere.
The decision to avoid the depths of the lake surrounding the Last Light was a mutual agreement, perhaps stemming from a shared understanding of the dangers lurking beneath its surface.
Thus, when Ruby unexpectedly invited Astarion to join her in the privacy of her room for a bath, it caught him off guard. Despite the absence of any overtly romantic intentions, the invitation stirred something within him, a mixture of surprise and intrigue. As he hesitated, his reaction mirrored Ruby's own uncertainty, evident in the shy yet hopeful expression on her face.
In that fleeting moment of hesitation, Astarion's unbeating heart compelled him to seize the opportunity presented before him. With a swift motion, he reached out for Ruby's hand.
As Ruby began to undress, Astarion's attention was drawn to her with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. He busied himself with preparing the bathwater, but his gaze lingered on her form as she revealed herself in the soft glow of the room.
When he finally turned to face her, he was taken aback by the sight before him. He had never seen her in such vulnerable light, and the revelation of her nakedness stirred something deep within him. Every contour of her body seemed to be crafted with delicate perfection, a testament to her beauty that left him momentarily breathless.
However, amidst the admiration, his eyes fixated on a particular detail that sent a pang of sorrow coursing through him. There, etched along her abdomen, was a scar. It marred the otherwise flawless canvas of her skin.
Astarion's heart sank as he beheld the scar, his gaze drawn to it like a moth to a flame. In that moment, the weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him, the memory of his own scars resonating deeply with the sight before him.
Without a word, he moved towards her with a sense of urgency, causing Ruby to startle in surprise. Sensing her sudden apprehension, he slowed his approach, mindful not to startle her further. Each step felt heavy with unspoken emotions as he closed the distance between them, his eyes never leaving the scar that held his gaze captive.
As Astarion's hand hesitated above the scar, Ruby observed him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Oh, I've had that for years—" Her words trailed off as Astarion interrupted her, his tone tinged with a delicate concern that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Darling, in that memory you showed me..."
Ruby nodded solemnly, understanding the unspoken question that lingered between them. The memory he referred to was one she had shared with him, a glimpse into the tragic events that had led to her demise at the hands of a werewolf under the control of Cazador. The scar, a physical manifestation of that fateful encounter, served as a constant reminder of the pain and loss she had endured.
Taking Astarion's cold hand in her own, Ruby pressed it gently against the scar, inviting him to feel the echo of her past. "It doesn't physically hurt anymore, though mentally...that pain lingers," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
As Astarion's fingers traced the length of the scar, Ruby felt a shiver course through her body, the sensation of his touch leaving an indelible mark on her skin. She met his crimson gaze, finding solace in the unspoken connection that bound them together.
"Trust me, I know the feeling," Astarion murmured softly, his voice carrying the weight of centuries' worth of memories and experiences. As an undead being himself, he was intimately familiar with the psychological toll of rising from the dead. The fear and paranoia that had gripped him upon awakening in his coffin were still etched into the recesses of his mind, a haunting echo of his past.
Recalling the sensation of clawing his way through six feet of earth, Astarion couldn't help but empathize with Ruby's own struggles. Despite the passage of two centuries since his own awakening, the memories remained vivid, a testament to the lasting impact of such trauma.
For Ruby, the pain was fresher, the wounds still raw from her recent awakening. Compared to Astarion's centuries, her ten years since rejoining the land of the living may have seemed like a mere blink of an eye, but the depth of her suffering was no less profound.
As Astarion's fingers traced the contours of Ruby's scar, a disquieting thought crept into his mind like a shadow in the night. The memory of her encounter with the werewolf stirred a dormant fear within him – what if she had been cursed with lycanthropy?
Frantically searching his mind for any signs of her transformation, Astarion recalled the nights of full moons, scouring his memories for any hint of unusual behavior from Ruby. Yet, try as he might, he couldn't recall a single instance where she had exhibited the telltale signs of lycanthropy. Still, there was something uncanny about her bond with Scratch. It was almost as if she shared an unspoken understanding with the creature, a connection that defied explanation.
"Ruby," he began, his fingers lingering on the scar, "a werewolf scratched you..."
Ruby's response was calm, her gaze steady. "I was never affected by lycanthropy, believe it or not," she confessed, her words carrying a weight of their own. "But there have been times where I've felt strange. Where I've been able to do things I haven't before."
"Such as?" he prompted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of their conversation.
Ruby's fingers fidgeted nervously as she sought to occupy herself, her movements betraying the underlying tension that simmered beneath the surface. Needing an outlet for her restless energy, she approached Astarion tentatively, her movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid of overstepping her bounds. With gentle hands, she began to disrobe him, each motion careful and deliberate, giving him the space to pull away if he so desired.
As she worked, her voice trembled slightly, betraying the uncertainty that lurked within her. "Well, once I unintentionally summoned a pack of wolves when I was in danger," she confessed, her words tinged with a sense of wonder and disbelief. "It was weird. I could understand them without the influence of magic."
To their mutual surprise, Astarion made no move to resist her touch, his body remaining relaxed and pliant under her ministrations.
"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, his voice carrying a note of contemplation as he stepped out of his trousers. Ruby met his gaze once more, her eyes searching his face for any sign of understanding or reassurance. "Well, perhaps your body warded off most of the curse?"
As they stood there, enveloped in the hushed stillness of the room, Ruby's attention was drawn to the scars that marred Astarion's back. The sight of them sent a jolt of recognition coursing through her veins, a stark reminder of the pain and suffering he had endured.
Without a second thought, she moved towards him, her hand reaching out instinctively to trace the contours of his scars. But as her fingertips brushed against his skin, Astarion flinched, a sharp intake of breath escaping his lips.
Caught off guard by his reaction, Ruby recoiled in shock, her hand retreating as if burned. "What did he do to you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a weight that echoed through the room.
Astarion's gaze darkened at the memory of his past torment. "Quite many things, my dear," he replied, his voice tinged with bitterness. "He considered himself an artist and used his spawn as canvases."
"How did I never see these until now?"
"To be fair, my dear, we only ever bathed at night," Astarion replied with a wry smile, his attempt at levity falling flat.
Astarion watched as Ruby's brow furrowed in concentration, her gaze fixed intently on the intricate patterns of his scars. The air between them crackled with tension, laden with unspoken questions and the weight of their shared pasts.
"Is that... Infernal?" Ruby's voice broke the silence.
Astarion's breath caught in his throat at her question, his mind racing to comprehend the implications of her inquiry. "What?" he uttered, the word escaping his lips in a whisper.
"Why would he-" Ruby began, her voice trailing off as she sought to make sense of the symbols etched into Astarion's skin, each one a testament to the cruelty of their shared enemy.
"Who knows?" Astarion interrupted, his tone heavy with exasperation. "He's insane."
"I know you can't see your back...would you like me to draw the runes for you?"
Astarion contemplated for a moment. Does he want to unlock that part of his past again? It's been so long since he thought about the scars.
Then again, what if there was something to be learned from the runes? What if they held the key to unlocking a part of himself that had long been buried? The uncertainty gnawed at him, leaving him torn between the desire for closure and the fear of what he might uncover.
With a heavy sigh, Astarion finally relented. "You don't have to," he murmured.
"I know," Ruby replied softly, her sad smile a reflection of the empathy that flowed between them. She took his hand gently and led him across the room to a wooden desk, where she gestured for him to turn around.
Reluctantly, Astarion obeyed, his heart pounding in his chest as he braced himself for what was to come. He could hear the scratching of the quill against the parchment, a sound that seemed to echo the anxiety flooding through his veins.
"Here," she spoke after what felt like an eternity.
Astarion's fingers trembled slightly as he gingerly took the piece of parchment from Ruby's hand, his eyes widening in shock at the sight before him.
"What in the hells..." he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared at the intricate patterns of the Infernal runes etched onto the parchment.
Ruby's gaze shifted between Astarion and the parchment. "What does it say?"
Astarion shook his head in disbelief, his mind racing to decipher the meaning behind the cryptic symbols. "I have no idea," he admitted, his tone laced with frustration. "But it definitely isn't a poem."
As Ruby reached out to gently cradle Astarion's chin in her hand, a tender warmth flooded through him at the contact. Her touch was soft yet reassuring, a gentle reminder of the unwavering support she offered in even the darkest of moments. She tilted his gaze upward, her eyes locking with his.
"Hey," she murmured, her lips curling into a lopsided smile that tugged at his heartstrings. "We'll figure this out, I promise."
Her reassurance washed over him like a soothing balm, easing the knot of uncertainty that had taken root in his mind. As her hand drifted to his cheek, he felt the rapid flutter of her heartbeat.
"Thank you, Ruby," he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude as he leaned into her touch, drawing comfort from the warmth of her presence.
He watched as a mischievous glint danced in Ruby's violet eyes, a playful spark that ignited a smile on his lips. "Now, I believe we have a hot bath awaiting us," she reminded him with a teasing smirk, her fingers intertwining with his as she pulled him gently toward the tub.
As Astarion carefully tended to Ruby in the soothing embrace of the bath, he couldn't help but feel a sense of serenity wash over him. The warm water enveloped them both, melting away the tension of the day and easing the burdens that weighed heavy on their hearts.
As he gently washed her hair, the rhythmic motion of his hands lulling her into a state of drowsy contentment, Astarion felt a surge of affection swell within him. Ruby's head nestled against his chest, her breathing slow and steady as sleep began to claim her.
With a tender smile, Astarion realized that his dear dhampir had succumbed to the blissful embrace of slumber. Like the gentleman he prided himself on being, he carefully lifted Ruby out of the tub, cradling her in his arms with the utmost care.
He tenderly dried her off, his touch gentle and reverent as he dressed her in fresh clothes. As he carried her to bed, he couldn't help but marvel at the peaceful expression that graced her features, her lashes fluttering softly against her cheeks.
After laying Ruby down gently on the bed, he turned his attention to himself, quickly dressing in fresh attire. As he made to leave the room, a soft whimper caught his ear, causing him to pause in his tracks.
Turning back to Ruby's bedside, he saw her curled up on the bed, her features twisted in a pained expression.
As Astarion's hand released its grip on the door handle, he moved with cautious steps toward Ruby's bedside, his senses attuned to her every movement. The soft glow of moonlight cast delicate shadows across her face, illuminating the vulnerability etched in the lines of her features.
He settled beside her, his heart twisting painfully as he observed the tremors coursing through her body.
Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he offered a soft shake, his voice a tender whisper cutting through the darkness of her nightmares. "Ruby, darling, wake up."
Her violet eyes snapped open at his touch, their depths swimming with unshed tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. The sight of her anguish tore at his undead heart, filling him with a sense of helplessness that he couldn't shake.
"Their voices are so loud," she whimpered, her words a raw admission of the torment that haunted her mind.
With a gentle strength born of his newfound understanding, he pulled her into his embrace, enveloping her in the safety of his arms.
As she crumbled against him, her sobs echoing in the stillness of the room, he held her close, offering a silent refuge from the storm that raged within her.
He had noticed the whispers of her parents' spirits growing louder in recent days, their spectral voices haunting her every waking moment.
For almost a ten-day, they had journeyed through the Shadow-Cursed Lands' treacherous depths, each step fraught with danger and uncertainty. And amidst the looming shadows, Ruby had shouldered the weight of leadership, her resolve a beacon of strength for their small party.
But beneath her facade of strength lay a vulnerability that only Astarion seemed able to penetrate. He had seen through the walls she had erected around her heart, sensing the turmoil that simmered beneath the surface. And now, as she crumbled in his arms, her grip tightening around him as if seeking refuge from the storm raging within her, he knew that he was her anchor in the darkness.
With gentle hands, he rubbed her back in slow, soothing motions. In hushed whispers, he spoke words of comfort and reassurance into her ear.
Gradually, her sobs began to subside, the storm within her gradually giving way to a calm that mirrored the stillness of the night. Her heart, which had raced with fear and anguish, slowed back to its barely beating state. "I'm sorry."
"Whatever do you keep apologizing for?"
"I'm supposed to be strong," Ruby admitted, her voice wavering slightly. "I usually am, but it seems like the closer we get to Baldur's Gate, the more often I hear their voices. The more often I hear their screams. It's unbearable." She nuzzled into his chest, almost hiding from the words that escaped her mouth.
As Astarion paused, his hand stilling on Ruby's back, a wave of vulnerability washed over him. He gazed down at her, his crimson eyes reflecting the tumult of emotions swirling within him. With a shaky breath, he braced himself to share the darkest corners of his soul, to lay bare the scars that had long been hidden from view.
"When I was under Cazador's control," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "he... coerced me into doing unspeakable deeds, regardless of my own feelings on the matter. It ate away at me, gnawing at my conscience until I simply became numb to it all."
His admission hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of his past sins. But before he could continue, Ruby's trembling form caught his attention, her vulnerability a mirror to his own.
Tenderly, he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, his heart aching at the depth of her pain. I was weak. It encircled his thoughts, but in his thoughts, it remained. "I didn't feel anything-"
"Because it hurt too much," Ruby finished his sentence, her voice soft yet resolute. The depth of her understanding took him by surprise, a flicker of gratitude stirring within him at her unwavering support.
"So you're saying I should try to not feel anything?" she questioned, her words tinged with uncertainty.
A sudden wave of alarm washed over Astarion at the implication of his words, a sharp pang of guilt piercing through him like a dagger. "No," he exclaimed, his voice laced with urgency. "I mean... I don't know. This whole... comforting thing isn't exactly my forte, you see."
Ruby's furrowed brows softened slightly as she listened to Astarion's attempt to articulate his thoughts. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, as if they were on the brink of uncovering some profound truth together.
"What I'm trying to say is... perhaps it's not so bad that you haven't been consumed by numbness," Astarion finally managed to express, his words slow and deliberate as he grappled with the complexities of his own emotions.
Ruby's gaze softened at his words. "How can it be a good thing if it hurts so bad?" she countered.
Astarion hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words to convey the wisdom he had gleaned from his own journey of self-discovery. "You prove a fair point, my dear," he murmured, his lips brushing against the crown of her head as he pressed a gentle kiss there.
After a few moments of silence, Astarion made a move to rise from the bed, his intention to give Ruby space so she could find solace in the quiet of her dreams. But as he shifted to leave, he felt her grip tighten around him once more, her fingers clinging to him as if afraid to let go.
He peered down at her, his gaze softening at the vulnerability he saw reflected in her eyes. "Please, stay," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath but heavy with longing.
To his surprise, Astarion acquiesced without hesitation. With a gentle touch, he unfolded the blanket that lay at the foot of the bed, carefully draping it over their entwined forms. As the warmth of the fabric enveloped them, he felt a sense of peace settle over him, a quiet reassurance that he was exactly where he needed to be.
Ruby adjusted herself, using his chest as a pillow as she nestled into his side, her body fitting perfectly against his own. Astarion's breath caught in his throat as he brushed his fingers up and down her bare arm, each touch sending a shiver of warmth coursing through him.
It felt nice, he realized. More than nice—it felt like coming home after a long and arduous journey. In that moment, surrounded by the quiet intimacy of their shared embrace, he felt a sense of contentment wash over him, banishing the self-loathing and disgust that had haunted him for so long.
And as he lay there with Ruby in his arms, he knew with a certainty that resonated deep within his undead heart: he didn't want to be anywhere else. In her embrace, he had found a sanctuary from the darkness that threatened to consume him, a refuge where he could finally let down his guard and allow himself to be vulnerable.
In that moment, as they lay together in the quiet stillness of the night, he silently vowed to cherish every moment he spent by Ruby's side, knowing that with her, he had finally found a glimmer of hope in the depths of his eternal darkness.